So, I'm Remus (the life of Remus Lupin
by BleachedBella
Summary: "We all expect destiny to deliver us our chance. Nice and shiny with a pretty bow." Destiny delivered a lot of things to Remus Lupin, hardly any of them with a pretty bow. However, there are many beautiful moments in Remus' life. Here we start with his fifth year all the way through the first wizarding war. I hope you like it!
1. Chapter 1

One

-History-

The rain was beating mercilessly upon the Lupin cottage in Meadville, Surrey. Particularly so on Remus Lupin's window. It did not matter to him though. The pounding somehow helped him focus more on the book he was reading. The book his mother had forbidden him to get. The book that he had smuggled from Flourish and Blotts along with his new textbooks. Remus had been amazed that she did not notice him placing it on the counter for the clerk.

Normally, Mrs. Hope Howell Lupin encouraged her son's obsession with reading. Especially books on magic. She was a muggle only introduced to the wizarding world two decades ago when she had married Lyall Lupin after he had rescued her from a boggart in the middle of the woods. Though she still dabbled in real estate, Hope had become increasingly interested in Lyall's universe, learning along with her son all the secrets of the wizarding world. Secrets Lyall preferred not to tell her. After all, he hadn't retired from his career of being the most renowned defeater of Dementors and spiritual entities for nothing. He now worked in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Out of danger for his wife and son.

Remus lay on his bed, on his stomach with his head at the foot of the bed, studying the pages of the 'forbidden' book with furrowed brows.

"Remus! Supper, darling!" Hope called from the kitchen, downstairs.

Remus jumped at his mother's voice and his head snapped up from the pages of his book. He let out a sigh of relief and resumed his reading.

"I'll be right down!" he replied.

' _ **The werewolf may appear human, but underneath its deceptive, benevolent exterior it is, at its core, a beast. Wizards and Muggles alike can be turned into werewolves, though wizards seem to cope with the pain better and Muggles rarely survive the rearranging of DNA. As soon as the blood of the victim is contaminated they are instantly cursed. Though more progressive methods to interacting with werewolves are always developing, humans and wizards are advised to maintain a safe distance and/or limit interactions. As stated above, they are ultimately perilous beasts.'**_

Remus slammed the book shut and sat up in one swift movement. He ran his fingers through his hair. At sixteen, Remus was already filled with angst and the confirmation of his fears about society did not help.

His mother had been right. He should not have read that book. It only confirmed his fears.

Remus slid off the bed, standing to his feet. The full length mirror on the back of his door caught his reflection. Remus stared at it dejectedly. He didn't have the lean body of Sirius that appeared trim and fit, nor did he have James slightly muscular but slim figure. He was long and gangly. Monthly transformations were a workout and they always drained him of at least a week's nutrition. Keeping a healthy weight was seemingly impossible. His mum would always try to get him to eat after a full moon but he couldn't seem to keep anything down. Not after his entire biological system had just been that of an animal's.

His face was young, like that of any fifteen year old boy, however his eyes were tired and old. Filled with impossible realms of wisdom for someone his age.

"Remus!"

"Coming, mum!" he called.

Perfect timing. Just before he was going to observe his scars. He'd had them for a decade and still couldn't get used to them. He couldn't believe they belonged to him. That he had given them to himself.

"So, Remus, are you excited for your fifth year?" asked Lyall as they started their supper.

Remus stared down at his dinner. The moon was two days from now and all food repelled him. Hope glanced at Lyall, brows furrowed above her icy blue eyes.

"Remus?"

"Huh?"

Lyall smiled wryly at his son, and pushed some of his thick, golden brown hair from his eyes.

"Fifth year. It's only a four days away. Are you excited?"

"Oh, erm...yeah, I s'pose."

'Actually, I'm rather nervous. My friends are going to be animagi and run round with me once a month. I'm afraid I may attack them. Oh, and Dumbledore, the man who worked very hard to make it possible for me to attend Hogwarts? Yeah, he has no idea about any of this,' thought Remus.

"You know, Remus. I think fifth year was probably my favorite. What about you, Hope?" inquired Mr. Lupin.

Hope raised her brows, taking a sip of her iced tea.

"Well, that was called tenth grade for me and I believe I started Algebra that term so...no. It was not my favorite year," Hope smiled. "So you'll have a better time than me at least."

Remus forced a smile.

"Remus, it's two days away. Try not to think about it, yeah?" Lyall suggested with a shrug.

The full moon. Only two days.

Remus nodded and gently stabbed a broccoli cutlet with his fork. His mother gnawed on her lower lip, waiting to see if Remus would be able to swallow it. Sometimes he would put it in his mouth, chew it, try to swallow and then immediately run away to throw it up. Regardless, Hope tried to feed him as much as possible before the full moon seeing as eating afterwards was impossible for days.

He swallowed and smiled hugely with his teeth, sarcasm evident by the exaggerated expression. Hope giggled to herself, shaking her head while Lyall grinned at his son.

"Pleased with yourself, are you?" he asked Remus.

"Immensely."

"So, I was thinking your father and I would take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Pick up your supplies. You know, before things become too difficult for you," suggested Hope.

Remus swallowed another broccoli cutlet and froze. His eyes widened. Hope and Lyall knew what that meant.

"Oh, I'm so sor-"

Remus clamped his hand over his mouth, leapt from his chair and dashed to the bathroom.

His parents could hear Remus vomit violently from just down the hall. Hope held back tears, as she always did when her son's condition affected his day to day life. Lyall closed his eyes, the burning sensation in his chest returning as he remembered that this was his fault. If he hadn't insulted Greyback, none of this would have happened. He frowned then looked up to his wife, her eyes glistening with tears.

A few moments later, Remus appeared back in the dining room, leaning in the doorframe. His weathered, blue sweater hung loosely on his frame. Hope bit back a sob at her son's swallowed face, practically green with nausea and coated in a thin sheet of perspiration.

"Erm, so if it's all the same to you both I'm gonna have a quick shower and just go ahead to bed. If you-if you don't mind," Remus said, attempting to appear slightly less sick than he had been moments ago.

Lyall and Hope nodded slowly.

"Can I get you anything? A cup of tea? Some of my nausea medicine, perhaps?" suggested Hope.

"Hope, dear, I doubt muggle medicine will aide his supernatural symptoms. However, mint tea would help him, I'm sure. Right, Remus?" clarified Lyall.

"Sounds brilliant. Scuse' me."

Remus turned to the stairs and trudged up them with labored breathes. Then he felt it. Another wave of nausea, his mouth filled with saliva as he sprinted towards his upstairs bathroom, threw open the door and quickly leaned over the toilet. He wretched loudly, coughing out the remains of what was once his dinner.

 _'Serves you right for trying to eat,'_ Remus imagined his body saying.

He braced his hand on the porcelain sink to his left and pushed himself to stand upright. Remus turned on the faucet and splashed his face with the cool water, before glancing up at his reflection in the oval mirror. Then he saw them. The only part of himself that he couldn't get used to.

His scars.

Three long ones going diagonally across his face. Lighter than his skin, a pinkish white. They had only just barely missed his eyes. Then there were tiny ones etched all about his face. They weren't as noticeable, but if you really focused they were still there. His long fingers reached up and traced the three scars across his face. His face was blank and eyes were sad. Remus saw these marks as a constant reminder of what he was. How what he was would affect his entire life. How no matter how smart or good or kind of a person he was he would never be more than a werewolf. Never.

The mirror was soon fogged up by steam, reminding Remus of why he was in the restroom. He was here to shower, not to mourn over the life that could have been.

After Remus had allowed the hot water to ease the tension in his muscles he dried off and vomited again. Somehow, he could tell that was going to be last time that he would throw up tonight. Remus brushed his teeth furiously, cleaning off all remains of his former dinner till his mouth burned with mint. Finally, he exited the bathroom and headed into his bedroom to change into pajamas. Flannel pants and a tee-shirt. Then he noticed that something was missing. The book that had been lying on his bed.

Remus felt eyes on his back and slowly looked over his shoulder.

His mother stood in the doorway, hugging the open book to her frail chest. Her eyes were filled with tears as she gazed at Remus, hopelessly. Remus swallowed and faced his mother, shoulders slumped.

"Mum, d-"

"Why, Remus? Why would you read such things about yourself?" she sniffed.

"Mum, I need to learn what this world sees in me. How I'm presented to them. Not everyone sees me like you, dad, James, Sirius and Peter do. Some people see me…some people see me like that," Remus replied, gesturing to the book in her arms with a limp hand.

A tear fell down her face. Remus approached her, arms open for her. She crumpled into his arms sobbing.

"Remus, none of this true. None of it. You know that, don't you, darling?" she cried into his chest.

Remus stroked her head gently. Even at fifteen he towered over her.

"I know, mum. I know."

' _But it is. It is. This is what I am. Just because you see me for the clever, kind person I am, doesn't mean that I'm not a monster. The werewolf may not be me, but once a month I am the werewolf,'_ Remus thought, eyes closed.

"Remus? Hope? What's going on?" Lyall asked in a concerned voice.

He was behind Hope. Remus looked up at him from his mother's wavy, brown hair and frowned. She turned around and cautiously showed the book to Lyall. He grabbed it, examining its pages with fervent eyes. Lyall slammed the book shut and looked up at Remus.

"Tell me you don't believe that rubbish, Remus," pleaded Lyall in his calm, quiet voice.

Hope now clung to her husband, still crying.

"I just…I just need to know what I'm up against. What society is looking for so I can hide it. I need to be prepared for what will happen and what they say. I've grown up sheltered by you and mum and James and Peter and Sirius and Dumbledore and McGonagall. It's not going to be like that forever, dad. You know that. You have to know that," Remus whispered giving his father a knowing look.

Sure, he was young; however when he gave his father that _look_ , it showed the wisdom of someone matching the age of an old, experienced veteran. Someone who knew everything and had experienced things that normal fifteen year olds could imagine.

Lyall observed the book in his hand. His eyes turned from the book to his son who continued to watch him with wise eyes. Hope continued to cry into Lyall's chest, mumbling things about how wonderful Remus was.

"You can keep the book if-"

"Lyall!" Hope gasped, pulling away from him.

Lyall placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring gaze.

"You can keep the book if you promise not to let it get to you. If you swear to us that you won't take any of it too seriously. That it will mean nothing outside of educational purposes and you will not forget that you are more than…than just some text book description of a generalized werewolf," Lyall said sternly.

He extended the book out to Remus. Slowly, Remus stepped forward and took the book. He gave his father a slow nod. Lyall grabbed Remus by his shoulders maternally and pulled him so they were face to face.

"You must remember, that you are not a simple werewolf. Nothing close. You are Remus Lupin. My son," Lyall said in a low voice.

Remus swallowed, clutching the book tightly. He nodded again, inhaling through his nose then exhaling slowly.

"You're not a monster, Remus."

' _That's not what this book says…'_ Remus thought.

"Other people will call you a monster, but they aren't the ones that matter. They're the ones that you leave. That you walk away from and forget forever. One night a month. Twelve days out of three-hundred and sixty-five you're something else. That's hardly anything," Lyall added pointedly. "I love you, Remus."

Remus and Lyall shared a gruff embrace before Hope flung her arms around him almost knocking the wind out of him. Remus smiled and closed his eyes, a tear falling. How someone with so much bad luck had be surrounded by such good people? A question he frequently asked himself. A question we all ask. As Remus Lupin said goodnight to his parents, climbed into bed and readied himself to resume reading the 'forbidden book' he couldn't help but be filled with some sort of cautious optimism. The more he read about these generalized werewolves, the more he began to loathe himself, however he also began to realize how different he was from them.

Every bit of luck has its catch. Of course Remus had been blessed with good company all his life. That was good. However, that would make living with other wizards and hiding what he was that much harder. That acceptance. It wasn't as easy to come by as it had been his whole life.

 _Wednesday, August 27_

 _Logue Entry: 431_

 _Once in a while I consider myself quite fortunate only to be gravely disappointed just days later. I always seem to think this just before a full moon. Maybe it's just the support I receive from my peers that makes me feel so lucky. Maybe it's the comfort of having someone there for me. Either way, it only seems to leave me gravely disappointed. Despite all of my sorrow and aggression, I still consider myself to be quite an optimist. I try to listen to Lily and see the beauty in things that no one else does. I'm very good at it normally, it's just this one thing that I can't see the beauty in. How am even supposed to find a glimpse of beauty in what I am? I'm a bloodthirsty monster who serves no purpose. I've done research countless times and have yet to find a single purpose that a werewolf serves. We don't eliminate predators that no other species can. We don't provide any other creature with sustenance. We are good for nothing. Nothing. I am good for nothing. After all, what can I do in the end? No one wants a werewolf involved in any monumental affairs. All I know is that if an opportunity to do something great, any opportunity (from saving a cat in a tree to babysitting to sacrificing myself for my friends) presents itself I will grab it. Grab it and never let go. My knuckles will turn white. I've never felt a need to fit in. I still don't. However, I feel a compelling need to prove myself. Maybe, just maybe I can do something that will allow even the slightest change as to people's opinions of my kind. The true question is, will that opportunity ever present itself to me? We all beg and plead for destiny to offer us that chance to do something great, all wrapped up and given to us with a pretty bow on top. The sad fact is that we have to earn it. To work towards it. Destiny is callous and unfeeling. Selfish and unyielding. It's going to be hard, but I can't stop trying. I won't. I need to become something better. Move beyond what I am. It's only a matter of time, right? Yes. It's only a matter of time._

 _-Moony_


	2. Chapter 2

Two

~Express~

Remus strolled into King's Cross Station, pushing his cart ahead of him. The full moon had only been two days ago so part of him remained in a daze of exhaustion.

"Remus, dear, do you want me to push that?" asked Hope, catching up to her son.

"Funny you should ask, mum, because I was thinking: the best way to start out fifth year is by having my mum push my school cart for me," grinned Remus.

Hope laughed softly as her husband's arm snaked around her waist and they continued towards the platform. Up ahead children stood with their parents before the ninth and tenth platform, surveying the area for any muggles that may be watching. Remus looked for James, Sirius or Peter but they were nowhere in sight. Not a surprise though. Remus was there an hour early. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin had accounted for the worst case scenario where Remus would pass out from exhaustion and put them behind schedule. Other than Remus and his parents, the only people there were probably first years under super anxiety about possibly missing their first train. Finally they arrived at the platform where a sniveling child and his parents dashing through the wall.

Another two children and their parents ran through the wall.

"Hope, hold tight to me, dear. Ready, Remus?" Lyall clarified linking his arm through Hope's.

Remus ran his fingers through his thick hair and gnawed on his lower lip, his eyes darted from the wall to his parents.

"You want to go on your own?" asked Lyall with a small smile.

Remus smiled back and shrugged. His mother's eyes watered slightly and she looked to Lyall helplessly.

"Darling, I started going onto the platform on my own at his age. Let's let him."

Hope nodded before throwing her arms around Remus' neck. Remus grunted in slight pain, the transformation still wreaking slight havoc on his bones. Hope didn't notice though. She was too busy crying.

"It's alright, mum. I'll see you not four months from now," Remus said comfortingly.

Hope pulled away, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and swiping away tears. Lyall took Remus by the shoulders gently.

"You've got your new cauldron?"

"Yes."

"Wand?"

"Yes."

"New textbooks?"

"Yep."

"Dragon-skin gloves?"

"Uh-huh."

"Quills, ink and parchment?"

"Yes."

"Personal logue?"

"In my bag," Remus assured patting the leather, messenger bag slung across his body. "The rest is in my trunk."

Lyall leaned in a little closer.

"And how are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice.

"Sore, but I'm fine. I've got a vile of Wiggenweld in my bag just in case."

"Not…wolfie then?" Lyall smirked.

Remus chuckled and shook his head.

"Not wolfie in the slightest, dad."

Lyall nodded and pulled Remus into a gruff hug. Though he knew Remus was in good hands at Hogwarts, he constantly worried for his safety. Not so much his physical safety as his psychological. Yes, he had the acceptance of his peers, James, Peter and Sirius; however if someone else were to discover his secret, he would rejected to say the least. At fifteen, rejection was a dangerous thing. Especially to someone so kindhearted and vulnerable. Though he appeared wise beyond his years and bursting with maturity, he was not made of steel. Like any teenager, rejection was a tough thing to face-especially if it was for something far beyond your control. However, if Remus could relax, or at least put on a brave face, Lyall decided that he could too.

"Alright, go enjoy yourself. We'll see you at Christmas," Lyall said releasing Remus.

"We'll be sending you post in three days with Gobs."

Remus smiled fondly at the thought of the family's old owl Gobs. Constantly spinning out of control and screeching in a tone that resembled a teenage boy's changing voice, Gobs was more of a baby than an owl. Still, he got the job done when it came to delivering and receiving messages. That was all the Lupins needed.

Remus readied himself, positioning his cart between platforms nine and ten. He glanced at his father who gave him a nod of encouragement and then his mother who waved to him with a tearful smile. Then he ran forward, disappearing into the pillar.

"Remus Lupin, ere' early o'course."

Rubeus Hagrid, the half giant keys and grounds keeper of Hogwarts, stood before Remus. He smiled down at Remus, lifting his cart with one hand and walking towards the Hogwarts Express. He tucked the trunk and suitcase in the stowaway compartment on the underbelly of the train and returned to Remus' side.

"How're ye' feelin', Remus? No' so tired ye' won' enjoy the feast I'm hopin'," Hagrid said with a small grin.

"A little tired, but nothing that will keep from enjoying mashed potatoes, chicken and pudding," Remus nodded, promptly.

Hagrid patted him as gently as possible on the back. Though he was tender in his physical contact with Remus, his touch still sent tremors of pain down Remus' spine. Remus was good at masking the aching though. He would simply laugh instead of cry out and close his eyes to prevent him from squinting in agony.

"Atta' boy. Well, go make yer'self comfortable. When I see James, Sirius and Peter I'll let em' know ye're already aboard," said Hagrid gesturing to the entrance of the Hogwarts Express.

Remus hopped aboard the train and started to make his way towards the end of the train where he, James, Peter and Sirius would sit. He recognized the first years. They sat quietly and alone within carriages, staring out the window at the brick wall of the station. Finally, Remus found a compartment at the end of the train, desolate and his for the taking.

Sliding the door open, Remus entered the car with a sigh before collapsing upon the far end of the bench by the window.

Glancing at his wrist watch he found that James, Sirius and Peter wouldn't be there for another half of an hour. He removed the leather-bound logue from his bag along with a pen and set to work.

 _Monday, September 1_

 _Logue Entry 436_

 _And so begins my journey back to Hogwarts. Though I am very much looking forward to seeing James, Peter and Sirius again I can't help but feel a sort of dismal foreshadowing if what is to come. The boys will be animagus in a little less than a month. When we will finally test our newest method of keeping me from harming myself…or harming others, rather. I tremble for fear that I may injure my friends though they assure me that they will be alright. Hopefully what I have done for them will express my gratitude. With the aid of the Homonunculous charm I have created a map. I call it 'The Marauder's Map.' The name to honor Sirius' new title for our group. While they have nicknamed me 'Moony' back in my second year I have, myself, come up with nicknames for them to. Sirius will be 'Padfoot' due to his dog animagi form. Peter is Wormtail-I don't dare jot down the reasons for fear that Peter will find his way into this logue, read my explanation and be offended by such. James is Prongs for quite an obvious reason. His stag animagi has quite the antlers. Compensating for something, I wonder… I only joke. Furthermore, this map will not only display the entirety of Hogwarts and its grounds but will also feature the locations of secret passageways. However, best of all, and a feature I am most positive James will be pleased with, is that we can spot the location of any and all students and faculty in the castle. This will make it easier for us to travel at night without being caught. With James' invisibility cloak and this map there is great promise that we shall be an unstoppable force of nature. Three animagi, a werewolf, an invisibility cloak and an omniscient map of Hogwarts at our fingertips? There have never been such powerful students at Hogwarts I presume. Now if only Sirius and James can reign in their pranking this year. I hope that for two reasons. For one, James may finally have a shot with Lily and we won't have to hear his incessant whining as to his pining after her. Second, I received with my Hogwarts list of supplies, notification that I will be a Prefect this year. I'm sure this is Dumbledore or McGonagall's clever idea to keep James and Sirius out of trouble. I'll oblige this request of course. Once again, I owe Dumbledore everything. It seems as though I owe everyone something. My parents for sticking by my side. My friends for accepting me. Dumbledore for aiding me far more than he should. I'm not quite sure as to how I feel about this. Should I feel bad? Should I feel sickly? Possibly grateful? I'll stick with grateful for that is the least burdening of all of those ideas. Not to sound self-absorbed but I really can't handle much more on my shoulders._

 _-Moony_


End file.
